Soaring
by OneCutePug
Summary: "Would you like to fly with me, Dean?"


**I saw a prompt for this ficlet, and just had to write it! Hope you enjoy. **

**Also, Dean and Cas are already in a relationship; this is an AU of season 9, however, Cas is still fallen.**

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_Soaring_

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When Dean wakes up, the other side of the bed is cold.

It's not really that a big deal; Cas wanders off all of the time. He's fascinated with the bunker, and all the nooks and crannies hidden in it, so Dean doesn't really think much of it.

Dean rolls out of bed and pads off to the kitchen; he's only mildly surprised that Cas isn't there; it's just Sam sitting at the table, drinking that sugary crap he calls coffee.

After all, it's not uncommon for Cas to grab a muffin or a piece of fruit and head off to the library to read through the old Men of Letters' journals. He spends hours pouring over those books, trying to find a possible spell to return all of his fallen siblings to Heaven.

It's when the library proves to be empty, however, is when Dean starts to get a little concerned.

Okay, maybe more than just a little. But that's not important.

Sam's still sitting at the table when Dean shuffles back into the kitchen. Dean holds up a hand and Sam glances up, one eyebrow raised.

"Have you seen Cas anywhere?"

"What? No.. Should I have?" Sam frowns and sets his mug down on a coaster. "Is something the matter, Dean?" He gives his older brother a pointed look. "What did you do this time?"

"What? Nothing." Dean grunts and scratches the back of his neck. "I just can't find the guy." Sam's eyes light up and he snorts.

"Mhmm… I told you we should've gotten him a phone." Dean huffs and flips Sam the bird over his shoulder as he turns and walks back out of the kitchen. Sam's answering ring of laughter echoes down the hallway.

—

Half the morning passes for Dean in a blur of old storage closets and dusty bedrooms all over the bunker; Dean even checked the dungeon, but Cas is still nowhere to be found.

"You think he might've left?" Sam asks, leaning against the doorframe. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail from his workout and he's holding a water bottle loosely.

Dean snorts, "You kidding? Cas would never leave without telling us." He walks over to the fridge and swings open the door, bending down to peer inside. Sam shrugs.

"He's done it before."

"He wasn't _human_, then, Sam. It's different now." Dean snorts. "Well, son of a bitch…" Dean leans into the fridge and snatches up a folded piece of paper with Cas' loopy handwriting off of the top of the sandwich meats. He straightens back up and unfolds the letter.

"Well? What does it say?" Sam walks over and looks over Dean's shoulder.

Dean finishes reading, groans, and crumples up the paper into a ball. Sam throws his head back and laughs.

"Seriously? That's where he is?" Sam snickers. "Dean, you need to go pick him up. He's been there all day!"

"How did he even get there in the first place?" Dean growls, but goes to grab the Impala's keys off of the counter. He shoves the note in Sam's hands and storms out the door to the garage. Sam chuckles and unfolds the letter, smoothing out the wrinkles.

—

DEAN –

WHEN WE WENT GROCERY SHOPPING THE OTHER DAY, WE PASSED A PLAYGROUND ACROSS FROM THE CHURCH. I WOULD GREATLY APPRECIATE YOUR COMPANY.

CASTIEL

—

When Dean drives up to the playground, it's practically deserted.

Well, it's deserted except for the lone man sitting in one of the swings. He looks up when Dean slams the car door and then looks back up towards the sky. The gravel crunches under Dean's boots, and they make a squelching noise when he sits in the swing next to Cas.

Cas turns his head and acknowledges his friend but doesn't say a word. Dean inclines his head in response and crosses his arms.

"So, Cas, I-"

"I left you a note detailing where I went, Dean." Cas turns back around and looks at him. "I placed it in the spot I thought you most likely to discover it."

"Well, buddy, the fridge is pretty much the last place I'd bother to check when you're missing." Cas shrugs and turns his gaze back up to the sky.

Dean turns and looks up at the sky; there's not a cloud in the sky, just the endless blue not unlike the one Dean has grown used to seeing looking into his eyes late at night.

"Did you know, Dean, that before I fell," Cas' breath hitches in his throat, "that I used to be able to fly anywhere, at any given time?" He smiles. "Flying is so… freeing. I admit, I used to take it for granted," Cas brings his gaze to meet Dean's. "And now what I would give to be able to fly one last time."

Dean doesn't know what to say, but it seems Cas isn't expecting him to respond.

"Flying, it seems, is different to every person. For example, Dean, your flying is going 90 in a 45 in the Impala with all the windows rolled down." The corners of his mouth twitch up. "To me, the closest action to flying I've encountered is swinging on a swing set."

Dean feels like his heart weighs a ton.

Cas turns to him with wide, wide eyes. "Would you like to fly with me, Dean?"

"Sure, Cas." Dean says. "I'll fly with you."

And so he does.

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**This was the original prompt: Imagine if human!Cas found a swingset and spent hours  
swinging on it, because it's the closest he can get to ever flying again.**

**I hope you liked it. Leave a review! :)**


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